Swimmer Jack

So, here I am aboard this gigantic ship they're calling the "Titanic". I love it when people state the obvious as such. For instance, my dear old mum, when thinking of a name for her goldfish, decided on the profound name of "Swimmer", I mocked her for weeks. God rest her soul. Still, it is a very big boat. I overheard some saying "Even God can't sink this ship". That makes me nervous. I'm not a religious man, to be sure, but all the childhood stories pounded into my head by my overzealous parents came to mind. It'd be just my luck that God hears that and decides he can, and will, sink this ship.

I barely remember getting on this damnable ship. I don't know why I purchased a ticket to begin with. I am sick of England, so it had to have been a compulsive buy. I was drunk when I bought it. Hell, I was drunk when I got on this ship, and the only reason I remember getting on the ship in the first place is because I was nearly run off the gangplank by these young houligans whooping and shouting about their luck as they ran aboard. I should have shot them with my slingshot. I know a slingshot is hardly a weapon, but I'd lost my gun in a bet about a week prior, and so all I had was this relic from my youth. Still, you can do some damage with a slingshot. You just have to aim right.

But back to the present. These two fools are pretending to fly at the bow of the ship. God but they look like idiots. I suppose they're in love. He's one of those houligans that nearly ran me off the gangplank, and she's one of these uppity women on this ship that always looks at me like I stink. I probably do, but that's not the point. Actually I hope I do. I'd love to offend their delicate senses. Still, it annoys me to see the two of them together, so I reach down slowly and take out my slingshot. Looking around for amunition, I spy a piece of rock or wood that will be perfect. I'm not sure what it is, everything's a bit fuzzy. I hear her say his name: "Jack" and I think to myself 'what an unoriginal name". I take aim, pull back and release. BAM! Right in the arse of the young gentleman and he jumps so hard he flips right over the railing. The girl is screaming. I rush to the edge to see him flailing in the water. I suppress a smile. The captian has sped up the boat to show off how fast she can go, and it's only a matter of moments before he's sucked under the boat and, I imagine, through the propellers.

The girl and I run frantically to the other end of the boat. She shouts,"Man overboard!" I run to see my handiwork. She runs in the hopes that he's alive. As we reach the back railing, there is nothing to see, except a slight smear of red floating in the waves. She collapses in distress, I lean over the railing, a small smile trying to form on my lips,and I feel the urge to state the obvious.

"Goodbye, Swimmer Jack."